Escape from the Asylum
by debbiea
Summary: Lucifer may be in the cage, but he has no intention of staying there. With the help of Persephone and her personal aids the Nezanari, he has a plan and when Sam and Dean arrive at a deserted farmhouse, they discover that someone is waiting to rise. Meanwhile at a convention in Birmingham, the horror film fancy dress party has taken on a realistic twist.


**Escape from the Asylum**

**Chapter One**

Woodcock was ready to pounce.

He stood at the entrance to the hotel grounds, looking through the trees which were in full leaf, across the car park, quiet under the encroaching dusk. A taxi drove heedlessly towards the solid large building ahead; the engine a faint purr against the still of the evening air. The world was waiting for the day to end, before night could come out to party.

He could see them clearly – women in their strange costumes, loitering at the front of the building. He could see their handbags slung across their shoulders and their lanyards hung carelessly around their necks.

Soon they would go back inside.

Woodcock darted from his cover. He ran at breakneck speed along the grey tarmac following the snake of the double yellow lines. The blood pulsed to his brain, throbbing at the side of his temples from the exertion. He could see the hotel as its brown hulk came into view, the flags standing majestic outside slightly unfurled, flapping at the top of their tall white poles. Insects buzzed around his face as he drew closer. His legs were already feeling like lead or big slabs of concrete that dragged him onwards.

Behind him darkness closed in on him, following him past the steel barriers, pushing him forward in his quest.

Ahead of him the women had finished their cigarettes, engrossed in one final conversation before going inside, returning to the warmth and light of their base for the next two nights.

And then he was almost upon them.

The women turned and smiled at him, acknowledging his existence but not making any attempt to approach him. One woman laughed loudly, her shrill voice cutting through the cooling air.

Woodcock assessed them quickly.

He moved sharply, darting closer. Then he stopped. Trying to catch his breath, he bent over and leant his hands on his thighs, a runner at the end of his marathon. As a group, the women moved idly to one side, needing to finish their chat but preferably not within his earshot.

Woodcock closed his eyes and then opened them to focus on the one woman who stood furthest from the group.

He concentrated, shutting out all other sights and sounds. It was just her that mattered. He could smell her scent, the faint aroma of perspiration mixed with deodorant, a slight woody smell overran this and then the very personal scent that could identify only her. This was what he had been trained for, this was his job and now he knew what to do.

All his senses were heightened, but they were focussed entirely on her, he could even hear her heart beat.

The woman was early twenties, a lot younger than Woodcock. She wore a blue dress already sprayed with fake blood. Her mobile phone was held in her right hand. She was looking at him now, questioningly, uncertainty etched on her face. He waited for her to speak, sure she would do so.

"Are you okay?"

The woman's voice held a slight crack to it, as her own instincts clicked in.

Woodcock smiled and said nothing.

The woman took a step backward. Still smiling, Woodcock reached forward and grabbed her arms. The skin was cold where she had been standing outside in the early evening air.

_Check her. Just check her._

In slow motion the fingers on his hands extended to double their length. The nails extended into claws, the beds bleeding as they accommodated the change in anatomy. Holding her wrists in one hand he clawed through her forearms one at a time, ripping through the flesh, then using his middle fingers he inserted them into her veins on each arm.

The sinewy tube delved deep into her veins, and he analysed the findings before reaching his conclusion. She wasn't a match. Woodcock withdrew and with one solitary swoop ripped through her jugular. The woman didn't have time to scream before her body crumbled and fell against him.

Woodcock's focus became all-encompassing again, the sights and sounds of his environment filtering through slowly. The remaining women were screaming, transfixed by the scene before them. Woodcock felt sick himself, his head felt thick and if he didn't know better, he'd put it down to a hangover.

Woodcock looked down at his hands, normality had returned except for the blood dripping from his fingertips. In the distance he could just make out the trees hedging the exit road, solid oaks sturdy and resolute, waiting to deal with the onslaught of customers. He stood tall, in salute and waited for his reward.

Between the screams he could hear gasps and questions.

"What…" Lindsay was struggling to pull herself together, "what the hell?"

Woodcock smiled at her. He could feel his insides tingling; it felt like electricity was coursing through him.

"I checked her."

"You killed her!"

Woodcock continued to smile.

"I checked her."

"Why?"

"I needed to," Woodcock said as he held his hands out towards her, the fingers starting to grow and protrude again. With a swift diagonal movement he slit her throat.

The woman clasped her neck, desperate gurgling noises escaped as she fell.

_There was no point checking you_, Woodcock thought.

Lindsay continued to clutch her neck as she lay on the floor, then her hand fell away as she finally fell silent.

Woodcock retracted his talons again.

Silence encompassed the front of the building. None of the women dared raise a whisper. They were simply paralysed with fear.

Woodcock looked beyond the women to the empty cars in the car park, to the single track road leading out of the darkness onto the main dual carriageway. There was nobody else around, nobody to see him.

A car door beeped as someone remote unlocked it. He could hear footsteps as someone slowly backed away.

"We need to get out of here," someone whispered.

One woman in a black t-shirt and jeans came forward. She didn't look at him, but she kneeled down to the women at his feet.

"Sandra. Oh my God…what did he do to you?"

Woodcock threw his head back. He opened his mouth wide and waited for the creature to crawl free.

As the creature left his body it dislocated his jaw on the way out. It was the only thing keeping Woodcock alive.


End file.
